AnimeIowa 2001 — The Secret of the Sauce

I'm guessing that this con report will be a bit shorter than most of the
ones I've turned out over the years. Although it's not for the reasons you
might suspect. Personally, I'm surprised I'm not completely jaded by these
things. Last time around, there weren't a whole lot of fellow writers at
AnimeIowa, so you'd think the fellowship angle would be out. And I've been
picking up so many anime titles lately that I don't really need to
go to a con to have an excuse to watch anime.

But I'm actually excited about this, and Konatsu even more so —
we're actually taking the Ucchan on the road, complete with batter,
vegetables, and grill. We even got ourselves a refrigerating cooler for the
occasion to make sure everything keeps while we travel out to (of all
places) Iowa for what we consider to be the best anime convention
around.

FRIDAY AUGUST 24

It's tough dragging ourselves out of bed today — our preparations
went well into the wee hours of the morning — but we do it. In
fact, we're both up some time before Dan-chan (hey, school's still out this
time, so he figures he can sleep in). At least it gives us a little more
time to load the fridge. Dan-chan himself is gonna have an interesting
weekend: Mom Kuonji is taking him today and tonight, while L-chan is taking
him to the beach tomorrow. And once they get back, L-chan's dropping him
off with Jeni-imouto-chan. He's gonna feel a bit like a ping-pong
ball but he doesn't seem to mind.

I wish I could say the trip was uneventful, but considering we took a
wrong turn and almost found ourselves in Wisconsin, I doubt I could say that
truthfully. The rain we flew through for 50 miles on either side of the
border kept it interesting, too: something to think about besides the
monotony of cornfields, not to mention the discovery that cruise control
doesn't work so well on wet surfaces — the car tends to boogie, that's
all I can call it.

Once there, the fellow at the desk checks our reservation: "You're
listed as having a room starting Sunday " "No! We're
supposed to be here Friday through Sunday!" Omigosh, and I
specifically said I was with the AnimeIowa bloc when I phoned in our
reservation months ago, too. Actually, considering that they claim to be
sold out over the weekend, it gets sorted out relatively quickly and
our room, while on the top floor, in really rather convenient to the
consuite (which is also up here this time around).

We head over there as soon as we get settled in, and it isn't too long
before Nick Leifker and Zen walk in. They're looking for Rich Lawson(! I
haven't seen him at a con for nearly two years!) — evidently they'd
made bets back in 1998 on the presidential election, and Rich lost. The
others are looking for the place that serves the most expensive steaks in
Cedar Rapids to soak him with it. I tell them they're too cruel what
with Al Gore losing by only so much, he ought to be allowed to treat them to
Philly cheese steaks (you know, where the steak is sliced reeeeeal thin?)
Apparently, a loss is a loss, as the Electoral College made abundantly
clear, and they're gonna apply that logic to this bet. Well, considering
that Nick picked the actual winner by name back in '98, I guess that's worth
something.

These guys and their friends/spouses aren't the only ones up here: Steve
Bennett shows up too, and immediately pegs the two of us (well, we're
wearing our Ucchan's caps, after all) We tell him about our plans to serve
okonomi-yaki, and he immediately tosses us in the deep end by asking about
sauces. What sauce do we use? Well, gosh I just use shoyu, myself,
and 'Natsu-chan prefers store-bought oyster sauce. We're up against a
native 'yaki-eater, and we know we're gonna disappoint. It's enough to make
us grow a pair of sweatdrops. But not to worry — Steve offers to give
us a simple recipe for tonkatsu sauce that we can try when we do set up.

The volunteer currently in the con suite nixes the idea of setting up the
grill right now: after all, the Guest of Honor banquet is only in a
couple of hours (and you know? We had, for the first time ever, considered
going to this. But one look at the schedule put the kibosh on that: they'd
placed the fanfiction panel right up against the banquet) Well, that's
okay what with the schedule, it isn't as if we could stay here long.
Besides, now we need to get ingredients.

I am a bit shamed to admit that Chicagoans (myself included) will on
occasion, refer to Iowans as "Idiots Out Wandering Around." Not
that Iowans deserve the derogation: it's just the typical native reaction to
tourists — any tourists. If y'all live someplace that get a lot of
goggle-eyed visitors, y'all will understand. The point is, it would seem
that Iowans are aware of it, and now that we're on their turf, they are
attempting to turn the tables. We know the shopping and eating
establishments are to the east of the hotel, requiring us to turn left. But
on exiting the hotel parking lot, there is a sign forbidding left turns.
Fine, then — we'll just pull a U-ey at the next stoplight. No dice:
there's a sign there saying 'No U-Turns'. And after that, the westbound and
eastbound lanes are separated by a concrete barrier: you couldn't turn
around it you wanted to. And the road goes on like this until it comes to a
dead end a mile and a half out of town. There, we finally
turn left on the road we run into, and turn left again, and head east for
several miles longer than we would have had to. Okay, all you I.O.W.A.ns
— I consider my karmic debt paid.

We manage to get back for the opening ceremonies, which are actually
quite well-attended for a change. Chairman Charles does his usual jokey
patter (it's really no wonder he can't get someone to take his place, no
matter how hard he tries — he's a hard act to match). He mentions that
AI is the fastest-growing convention of any sort (assuming you're speaking
in percentage terms). They are expecting 700-800 people (and maybe more,
though he's reluctant to actually say the 'n' number: he does ask the crowd
"What are y'all telling your parents so they let you come?") and
Chuck makes a plea for volunteers several times. There have been a
few problems with the con T-shirts — apparently their scheduled printer
is surprised that delivery on Tuesday is not gonna work out too well.
Several members of the staff are buying shirts at WalMart as we speak, for a
local printer to do the job instead. This may cause problems with other
programs, if they aren't allowed sufficient prep time.

The guests of honor are introduced, all two of them. Bob DeJesus begins
by stating that this is his last con as a bachelor (which seems odd, given
his 'marriage' at AnimeCentral — when I'd asked him earlier how married
life was treating him, he confessed that the ceremony at ACen hadn't been
legally binding. Well, I guess that comes as no surprise — as opposed
to the original ceremony itself.) His fiancee is here with him, of
course he's still working on persuading her to vacation in Japan with
him. Steve Bennett is introduced with the reminder that "We are here
to have fun," and he certainly does, regaling us with tales of
his first visit (replete with X-Files fears, especially when the threshers
went on in the middle of the night).

The call goes out for folks to reserve their spots for the Guest of Honor
banquet. Both of the guests have causes to sponsor, too — Bob with
hospice (his fiancee's grandma), and Steve with cancer (his late father). I
mutter apologies within the crowd, and scramble upstairs as soon as the
ceremonies are over: the fanfiction panel is already starting.

The weird thing about being back in the Collins Plaza is that things are
not where they had been last time around. The fanfic panel, for instance,
is taking place in '99's consuite. I recognize a number of folks in the
audience — G.F. Sandborn, Zen, Rich Lawson, Nick Leifker, among others
— but I recognize *none* of the panelists, three girls wearing Burger
King crowns turned inside-out with their names written on them (There's a
fourth girl, but it's not obvious immediately whether she's part of the
panel). They call themselves the "Queens of Orochi", and I guess
their stock-in-trade is citrus work about SNK. This prompts the inevitable
question: SNK is ? Turns out, it's a video game (to which Travis
Butler can be heard singing softly "the times, they are
a-changing "), so they have very little canon backstory, and
plenty of leeway to create some for the characters involved.

Nick raises the question about dealing with the 'been there, done that'
syndrome, of which Ranma fanfiction, in particular, appears to be suffering
these days. One of the girls agrees that this is a real problem; she's seen
cases where a decent writer puts two people together, only to start a trend
of mediocre writers pairing the same characters ad nauseum.

The girls are not keen on crossovers: they consider them difficult to
pull off without turning into parodies (not, they admit, that there's
anything wrong with that, necessarily). They mention a particular distaste
for Harry Potter crossovers (which has Zen asserting that Naga the White
Serpent has to be a Slytherin, to a few groans)

They bring up the subject of C&C, and the annoyance of giving
thoughtful C&C only to be rejected outright. The consensus is that if
you're so thin-skinned as that (one of the girls refers to 'all my words are
precious' people), then you really shouldn't be writing in the first place.
There will be people who don't like your work, and you have to deal
with that. There will be things to correct and adjust even in the
best stories, and you have to deal with that, too.

This topic segues to the concept of beta-readers, and where to find them.
The panelists suggest that the smaller fandoms have the better
pre-readers, as they're on the lookout for good fiction on 'their'
anime/game, and will be more willing to review and improve such fics.

Then it's on to the other end of the response spectrum: flames. Our
friend Victoria from last year pipes up with an email she received from
someone claiming to be a close personal friend of the Gundam Wing creator,
and that he was very offended at having his characters portrayed as gay.
This gets a big laugh all around, and in fact, the email turned out to be
completely bogus: the thing was sent out without the knowledge or permission
of the actual address owner.

The panelists are asked why they bother to write. The first spoke of
constantly getting ideas along the lines of "wouldn't it be cool
if ?" and continuing from there. The second admitted to always
being a creative liar: at least this way, it's being put to more positive
use than in some cases. The third has an affinity for neglected characters,
and the final panelist started out by writing original fiction, and kind of
backed into fanfiction as a challenge.

The topic turns to smut, which the girls discuss with surprising relish.
Please, they insist, if you're going to write stuff like that, make it
anatomically correct; they recommend watching porno (or, if the outlet's
available to you, doing field research, heh-heh) in order to get it right.
Richard is palming his face at all this talk; he's clearly embarrassed about
it all, but the exact reason why isn't clear.

A question comes up as to how long is too long. The logical reaction is
forthcoming: how good is too good? A good fic can be long, and still leave
you wanting more. As an example, they speak of a great fic (their words,
not mine) "where Akane suffers from some kind of anger
disorder " at which point the group goes nuts. The audience knows
Zen is sitting among them, even if these girls don't. He refuses to take a
bow, even as the girls praise him to the heavens.

And with this little bit of chaos, the panel runs out of time and breaks
up, several of the old-line vets fretting jocularly about how Zen will be
insufferable for the rest of the weekend. Comparing notes, I discover no
one else of the FFML seems to know these girls: Nick, I believe, recalls
having attempted to located their website, to no avail. There is a
suggestion that these girls simply asked the folks running the con if they
could head the fanfic panel, and were given the green light to run it as
they saw fit. Of course, if we have a problem with this, we ought to beat
them to the punch for next year.

After a quick breather at the room, we head back to main programming for
the game show. Not that there's any need to rush; the staffers involved had
been part of the T-shirt run, and they are rather less than prepared at the
moment. But eventually, things get underway. This time around, the format
is akin to 'Weakest Link'. I drop my name in the fishbowl, although I
suspect I'll look pretty stupid if I get chosen.

I'm not (despite having what amounts to a 50-50 chance), but the ones
chosen do. Whole rounds go by with no one answering correctly. I get into
trouble whispering the answers to Konatsu as the game goes along (and I at
least have the satisfaction of only missing one of the ones I try) —
the first time I do so, the host reminds the audience (ie, me, the loud one)
not to coach the contestants. It's not that it mattered; the poor sap
didn't heed my 'advice', and got it wrong. Again. The Queen of Mean would
have a field day with these people.

Even more so as the three girls systematically eliminate the four boys
one at a time, despite the fact that the guys dominate (if that word is
applicable in a game where a good round has two questions answered correctly
in two minutes), and then agonize over the vote once it is down to the girls
themselves. The first girl to go has a vociferous fan club, it would
appear, and are quite upset about the results. Granted, she'd gotten only
one question right in the entire game

Not that the two remaining contestants fare any better. The head-to-head
competition goes into overtime, as the two girls miss each of their first
six questions. Finally, one gets the seventh question right, and as the
other one misses hers, we have a winner. After half an hour of my
whispering, Konatsu tries to console me for not getting picked by telling me
how I could mop the floor with these guys. Personally, I figure I'd'a been
voted off pretty quickly - even the Queen of Mean acknowledges that the
truly weakest link is not always the one eliminated. This game
sure bears that out. I will give the hosts credit for hauling out what I
thought were easier questions as the game progressed, but that's a relative
term, after all.

While we don't intend to set up the grill tonight, we decide to check out
the consuite, and at least figure out a way to set up the laptop so as to
run anime while we cook for future reference. We've digitized nearly our
entire collection of parody anime, and just for the fun of it, we set up the
old standard, Neon Genesis South Park. It doesn't take long to get a crowd
assembled watching it

and it doesn't take long after that to get asked to leave. Seems
the crowd NGSP draws in the suite creates a bit of a fire hazard (not to
mention blocking the path to the supply room — and the beer!), so the
volunteer asks us politely to set up elsewhere. At least he had the decency
to wait until the show wrapped up still, this changes things a bit.
Somehow, I doubt we'll be watching much anime at all this weekend and
it's even less likely we'll be seeing anything we haven't before.

I won't say that by moving things back to our room, we clear out the
consuite; however, we still have a sizable crowd here with us to watch Lina
Warrior Sorceress, Koko wa Otaku, and our newest acquisition, Bad Scottish
Dubbing. The laughter also attracts a number of other curious passers-by,
many of whom stick around to watch, including a fellow who works for the
Right Stuf International. He, too, assures me that KareKano is in process,
and will be out soon (and I offer condolences on their loss of their first
director)

He and a few others stick around after the parodies are over, discussing
doujin anime some of which I just so happen to have. So I fire it up
— after closing the doors so no one who shouldn't see this kind of
stuff will. I guess in some circles, the Ranma hentai anime has acquired
legendary status, but in all honesty, it's nothing to write home about (yes,
I know Iím writing y'all about it, but it's a whole 'consumer
report' type of thing). Most of the 'action' is little more than a series of
animated .gifs, and without audio (well, apart from the music track —
wouldn't be a porno without that music track) you can't tell if Ran-chan is
groaning in ecstasy, or just suffering a nervous tic.

The Shampoo-Mousse pairing I mention only because it prompts one of the
funniest lines of the con: "Time for Shampoo's cream rinse!"

Well, it was funny at the time of course, it was after two
in the morning on

SATURDAY AUGUST 25

After a decent night's sleep (all things considered), Konatsu is up and
raring to go to the dealers' room. After all, Steve had offered to
show us the sauce receipe, and need to get it from him before we plan to set
up in the consuite 'round about noon.

He's not at the dealers' room, however not that it stops
us from buying stuff, including a few things from Ironcat. It's there we
discover that he's in main programming with Bob DeJesus, doing a guest panel
that's to lead into an autograph session. As we join the admittedly small
crowd (hey, it's only ten in the morning or so, after all), he's talking
about the way HyperDolls concluded — yeah, he said, it really was that
abrupt. The magazine Itoh-san was working for just up and folded, leaving
the story pretty much in mid-arc. There's some talk about resuming the
story through Ironcat and then bringing it back over to Japan, and wouldn't
that be sweet?

He waves us over, and we set the requisite ingredients up on the table
while he and Bob continue to draw on programs and T-shirts. For nearly an
hour thereafter, we stand aside quietly (well, quietly for me) and watch the
two guys work; no point interrupting them or the other fans gathered here.
Let them interrupt themselves, as Steve does occasionally when he gets a
whiff of Worcestershire sauce and remarks on how it's getting him
hungry.

Some time after eleven, Bob takes off for another panel, while Steve is
scheduled to stay to update the growing audience about Ironcat. Instead, he
takes the bottles and begins by announcing a very special episode of
'Cooking with Steve.' Gee, all I wanted was for him to instruct us on how
to put this thing together but hey, if he's gonna show the whole
crowd, that's cool, too. He makes sure someone's videotaping, too, before
he begins wotta ham ^_^.

In any case (and if it doesn't interest you, feel free to skip over these
next few paragraphs although I doubt this is any more boring than
anything else I'll be telling you), he talks about growing up Japanese in
60s/70s America, when you couldn't just run down to the corner ethnic
marketplace like you do today (and some of y'all are looking at me like,
"we can do that today, even?") So his family had to make do with
ersatz concoctions like this one when they didn't have care packages from
relatives back in Japan. In fact, he tells about having actually worked in
a Japanese restaurant in the days before Ironcat, and whipping this stuff up
when they'd run out of genuine tonkatsu sauce. His sempai chefs were a bit
dubious, but apparently impressed enough with the results to modify it
slightly and make it their own specialty.

For what it's worth, it's surprisingly easy to cobble together —
hell, if Steve Bennett can do it, anyone can. All it takes is ketchup, a
couple tablespoons of sugar, less than a teaspoon each of lemon juice and
shoyu (he expresses disappointment that we've brought La Choy: "It's
not that we can't work with this, but there really is a difference
between Chinese and Japanese soy sauce," kinda like French versus
California wines, I suppose. I was a bit surprised, myself — I thought
we'd brought Kikkoman) and enough Worcestershire sauce to turn the mixture
"the color of a well-tanned saddle." We offer him a number of
plastic spoons to taste-test his creation from time to time, and he jokes
about DNA swapping: "after all, when you do this at home, you don't
think twice about dipping a finger it to test it. Of course, if it were a
restaurant, I'd be yelling for the check right now "

It takes about three or four plastic spoons (and the audience reaction to
each taste ratchets up from nervous giggling during the first lull to
outright hilarity as he makes a show of his final check) and about a third
of the bottle, but he pronounces himself pleased with the results, and to
the audience applause, he exhorts everyone to try the stuff upstairs at the
consuite — where we're headed right now.

(Okay, all you non-culinary types can tune back in now I think)

To be honest, it's hard to sit around patiently waiting for Steve to
finish signing stuff after a while. I like to think I'm pretty easygoing
about scheduling for the most part, but if I have it in my head to be
somewhere at a certain place and time, I get very edgy as that time
approaches and I'm not there yet.

On the other hand, it's not like we're on any official list to volunteer
at thus-and-such a time (it would have been easier if we were, frankly), so
it's not like we're gonna be in trouble if we're not up there by noon. And
we're not albeit we're not all that late.

I should mention that setting up is nowhere near as easy as my anime
counterpart makes it look. For one thing, that propane-fired portable grill
of hers would be completely verboten indoors like this. But finding an
electrical outlet isn't always easy, either. The first one we plug into
starts out okay, but while I'm working on our first customer, we're also
plugging in a soup pot (for the less adventurous, we're offering ramen.
Yes, I know, but Shampoo isn't here, so why not?). Whether this is the
straw that breaks the camel's back isn't clear. What is clear is
that the consuite has blown a fuse, and we have to relocate.

At least the other room of the suite still has lights, so I move the
grill (which still has an unflipped 'yaki on it — whaddya gonna do,
ne?) and plug it in on the floor. And for the next four hours, I am on my
knees, mixing ingredients with batter, pouring it on the grill, bantering
with the crowd that surrounds me and there *is* a crowd, usually two
or three waiting with their handpicked ingredients while I'm frying up as
many okonomi-yaki as that already. In fact, there's no letup to this pace
until about 3 pm, when I finally fix myself an okonomi-yaki — my first
food of the day.

Yeah, you heard right. It's ironic that, at a convention most vaunted
for its well-stocked consuite (not to mention how I'm spending so much time
in here), I'm not actually getting much chance to sample its wares — or
even my own — for so long. Oh well I probably could stand to
lose the weight: my figure isn't what you'd call 'schoolgirlish' these
days

For what it's worth, the sauce is a keeper reciepe: tangy and spicy, like
teriyaki meets BBQ. Nearly everyone who tries it likes it — although
some, when told that Steve Bennett prepared it himself, eye the stuff
warily, like it's gonna grow tentacles or some such (others just think it's
cool that he'd do that). For myself, I'd fretted over putting sugar in the
mix — I'm not big on sweet-and-sour combinations — but it plays
off the shoyu and the lemon juice real well. Those of you coming up for
ACen next year may want to drop by and try it.

Oh, and yes, we fix a couple for Steve, although Konatsu has to deliver
them to him in one of the live programming rooms. They make the guy earn
his keep here, and no mistake. He did gripe good-naturedly this morning
about how you'd think being a 'Guest' of Honor should allow him the ability
to kick back and relax, but noooo .

In any case, he likes the stuff. Whew.

It's almost four o'clock, and we've just about gone through the gallon of
batter we brought (and several pints of ramen, apparently — Konatsu's
been minding that in the other room, as well as instructing guests how to
select ingredients for their 'yakis), but there's been no sign of any of the
writers. I take a breather and head for the art show — Victoria says
the place closes at four, and she had some of her work on display. No luck:
the sign outside states that they closed at three.

However, I do run into Mark Engel (another face I haven't seen
in a couple years of cons), who tells me that he and the others have just
gotten back from Iowa City. I ask him for Zen's room number, and head back
to the consuite. I've got just enough batter for one last 'yaki, and for
all the times he's been *this* close and missed out, he deserves it.

I call him, and he's up here within minutes — sans spatula, for
once. Which is just as well — that stainless steel would scratch the
Teflon, in any case, so it's pretty damn well useless under the
circumstances. He and I and several others start chatting up series to look
into: Gasaraki (Evanglion mixed with Noh theatre, and not so downbeat), Hand
Maid May (I can't summarize the description, but it sounded funny), and
Dual! They also mention something about the South Park sendup of Pokemon:
"You have got to see this," and one fellow says that
what South Park ought to send up next is Evangelion.

Konatsu and I pause. You weren't here last night, were you?
"No did I miss something?" We invite him, Zen, and the rest
over to the Ucchan after the cosplay for Mihoshis and parodies.

(At this point, 'Natsu-chan takes me aside and confesses that one of the
liquor bottles broke somewhere along the way. Since the cooler is
brand-new, it was clean enough to pour into a different container, but my
kunoichi figured I ought to know. Well, these things happen.)

Speaking of breaking things (how's that for a segue?), it's just
about time for the traditional piñata. And for the third year in a
row, it's Pokemon-related (boy, these otaku have it in for that show, don't
they). This time, it's Jigglypuff. Just before the drawing to see who gets
to slug'er open, someone offers to play the music others object that
they want to be awake when their number is called.

Five lucky folks get called up to take their licks with a broom handle,
"And if this doesn't do the job, after this we'll use a tire
iron!" The first swing takes off the right eye, and underneath the
blue rondel is a purple one with a dark X drawn across it. The details
these folks work on can be amazing at times

The next two strikes dent Jigglypuff in the back, the fourth merely sends
it swinging wildly, and the fifth and final shot pops the lid off its top
like a Poke-yarmulke. No candy has spilled yet, so, true to their word, out
comes the tire iron. And it still takes two hits before falling to
the floor.

The scramble for candy is, I presume, frenzied (I can't see a lot of it
from my perch several yards from ground zero, and in any case, I'm in no
mood for candy myself, so I'm not joining in). By the time I manage to pass
through to where they're showing music videos, nothing is left on the ground
but scores of Tootsie Rolls.

I should mention at this point about folks wandering about in costume.
You see 'em at every convention, but this is the first time I've heard of
giving awards for hall cosplay. Not a bad idea, considering how some folks
develop stage fright, and there usually are only so many entries a cosplay
can bear. We've seen the obligatory Vash the Stampede (I mentioned at the
time how no con is complete these days without one, and a fellow in the
elevator with me informed me that Otakon had something like
fourteen of them running around. Now that's what I call a
Stampede ), and several very good Kikis (and a girl dressed up as a
very large Jiji, to boot)

And then there are the ones showing LOTS of skin. I realize that
it's August, but my goodness cleavage, midriffs, that sort of thing.
No Kekko Kamens, however — judge for yourself whether that's a good or
bad thing. You can tell who they are because of the fanboys crowded around
them — although that doesn't guarantee you'll know who the character
is, or even that the fanboys do. One in particular is bare from the middle
of her cleavage down to her bikini line — accompanied (wisely) by her
muscular and (as she put it) "very tolerant" boyfriend. That's
tolerant insofar as he lets her dress up like this, not insofar as he'd let
some idiot touch her. I can't resist, though: I have to ask how she stays
in such great shape — I certainly wouldn't look good in her
outfit. Believe it or not, she admits that she wouldn't have
looked good in it a few months ago. So what's your secret, girlfriend?
"I skipped a lot of trips to McDonald's" That's it?
"Yup." Sheesh

Anyway, they're stacking chairs on which to hang the screen so they can
show the music videos — I sure hope things aren't so makeshift in the
video rooms (which should imply to y'all that I haven't been in the
video rooms yet). Next to me and Konatsu is a young woman making a very
good sketch of Lina Inverse and Gourry, although it does remind one of
Groucho Marx' line about how "I wouldn't go to a movie where the guy's
tits are bigger than the girl's."

Now they're stacking chairs on which to put the
projector

Finally, they get the show on the road. And while there aren't that many
entries, most of them are pretty good; enough so that a favorite of mine,
Neko-Sama, has a run for his money. His "Love Machine," set to
Sorcerer Hunters, is quite funny (and Victoria points out the puns even in
the song later), but it is quickly overwhelmed by Excel Saga clips set to
— get this — the theme from 'Pinky & the Brain.'

A Fushigi Yuugi video moves Konatsu-chan to tears — looks like I
know what series we'll be watching together next. The contest wraps up with
"One Night in Bangkok" from Chess set to Cowboy Bebop which,
while amusing in spots, doesn't affect me like seeing Excel cast as Pinky.
But Chess wins, based on audience applause then again, I could mention
Weakest Link again.

The nice thing about waiting in line for the cosplay is that I have
plenty to do here. While I catch up on some transcriptions (not nearly
enough, to be sure, but better than nothing), I'm running a bit of
Adolescence Mokushiroku. Several people — mostly my college sempais
— are watching over my shoulder as I type, so I'm keeping busy and
keeping them entertained at the same time. Konatsu-chan wonders aloud why I
tease them with a feature-length film that can't possibly finish before
we're let in to the cosplay. I don't have an answer for that.

Finally, the doors open and we file in for the cosplay. Charles does his
usual schtick (although apparently, he's not going to be tap-dancing for us
— 885 is respectable, but it's not over a thousand), with an
announcement: he will no longer chair AnimeIowa. Disappointment is tempered
by the fact that he's still required to MC, as part of the deal of his
release.

He introduces the judges: Steve Bennett, of course (although for whatever
reason, Bob DeJesus isn't joining him — is he afraid they're gonna pull
another surprise wedding on him?); Elizabeth, an AI staffer known for her
own considerable cosplaying talents; and Kevin, a big fellow who I believe
has been working security for the con. Kevin waves to the crowd holding a
stuffed pink elephant, and the audience denies seeing, much to Chuck's mock
consternation.

First off is Sailor Saturn and Nag-a-Mom? Saturn takes
too long to put on make up, and Mom smacks her and huffs off the stage as
Saturn pleads for a ride home.

Ryo-oh-ki 'miyahs' the theme from Tenchi, followed by Four girls doing
Fake: they claim to be saving up their best skit for YaoiCon, and it
shows.

A red-haired Princess from Sailor Stars walks across, while Gambit (from
the X-Men[?]) has a sword and knows how to use it. Kuno could use some
lessons from this guy.

Shaolin from Mamotte Shugogetten gives the MC flower and a kiss on the
forehead. Shiji Ikari can't convince himself to stay onstage, despite
constantly repeating "I mustn't run away" several times

The entire cast of Ranma 1/2 (led by a phoenix-headed Kuno) sing a silly
little ditty about mud on the carpet and washing the dog. Decent costumes,
but Kuno, "don't give up the inheritance."

From Irresponsible Captain Tylor: Azalin and her fool: the care and
feeding of same. Rule #1: Feed your 'pet' — but he insists on juggling
the apples she tosses him. Rule #2: Get a friend for your pet — a
stuffed Pikachu, which knocks him down when tossed at him. All of which
leads up to Rule #3: Pick up after your pet.

FF6's Setzer and the Mog rock to Queen: they *will* rock us — and
the audience is more than willing to be rocked. The Mog, in particular,
can't be dragged off — too busy doing air guitar. The MC makes it
clear that if we can see the Mog, he can see a pink elephant which
brings the inevitable "What elephant?"

FF9's Kuja and the Princess "Nice day reminds me of a day I
killed someone" "Who?" "Oh, lots of people." The
princess summons up punishment — after all, it's not nice to kill.
Principal Kuno doesn't fare too well against Kuja, but the pirate from One
Piece manages to clear the stage.

Inu-Yasha and his girl step onstage to the show's theme. Wonderful
costumes.

Sorceror Hunters' Dota-chan does a quick walk-across, as does Ruby Moon
from Card Captor Sakura.

Victoria walks onstage as Mad Jackal Bean from Digimon, followed by DBZ's
Trunks, posing for the cameras.

Rei, Shinji and Kensuke (with the subtitles) do "the Lost
Scenes," complete with subtitles (which apparently is all Kensuke's
good for): Shinji returns Rei's panties, and gets slapped for his
trouble.

Spike from Cowboy Bebop does some more poses for an appreciative crowd,
while Princess Mononoke — in full battle dress — stalks the MC:
thank heavens an apple (from Azalin's sketch) pacifies her

Kazumi from Haunted Junction is possessed by the spirit of Steve
Bennett? The miko sends out two scantily clad girls, and the possession
changes to Bob DeJesus? "Live models?" he grins.

Lain Ayukawa and Denjiko from Digi-Charat offer "a message from the
Wired:" "We are all connected all anime well, except
for cheap shojo."

The MC offers Haunted Junction's Haruto freedom from the Holy Student
Council all he has to do is MC at AnimeIowa for the next five years.
"Oh my GOOOOD!" and he runs off.

Rio from City Hunter, waiting for a chance to 'hone his skills.'
Fushigi Yuugi's Miaka and Yui, as preistesses, do a silent pass.

The final sketch, shows how to refuel a Robotech mecha. And now, the
stall while the judges deliberate. Thankfully, the MC is not going to sing
or dance (well, if we'd had a thousand people, he says he'd'a been
willing to tap dance) He will mention nearly everyone who's been
involved with this year's AI — and he still has plenty of time
left to thanks the Collins Plaza. Everything worked great, except for the
water in the dealers' room looks like the renovation money was in
vain.

Finally the judges come out, and present a prize to the MC: the pink
elephant. did we see it this time? "No." Of course not. The
three prizes are handed out, and I can only tell you the order in which they
were announced, as I didn't catch first-second-third or anything like
that.

Setzer & Mog take the first prize and Mog's head winds up on one of
the judges, followed by Princess Azalin and her fool, and the Digi-Charat
Pepsi commercial. Then come the Judges' choice awards: Elizabeth gives the
nod to the Lost Scene, while Kevin likes Lain and Digi-Charat's mixed
message, and Steve ? The crowd snickers, as it's a foregone conclusion
as to which one actually had him in it. Chuck insists that Steve
can be professional about this. That's as may be, but the possession sketch
still takes the prize.

Finally, Best of Show goes to the Lodoss crowd. There must be
something to the chant of "pow-pow-Parn" that I'm not getting. On
the other hand, the costumes, especially Deedlit and the dwarf, are
amazing.

Cosplay over with, we take the elevator back to our room and it
occurs to me that no one's done the 'chick speech' from Utena this weekend.
For that matter, no one is even dressed in Utena costume. How quickly these
series become passé

We get ourselves settled upstairs, but we hold off on showing Neon
Genesis South Park (for a third time this weekend) until Zen and friends
show up as it so happens, most of the group here tonight had been by
last night, so there's little reason to repeat everything to this
crowd. I start out with a bit of "Read or Die" (finally,
something I haven't seen), but only ten minutes into it, the fire
alarm goes off. Well, I don't care what anyone thinks, I'm not leaving my
laptop to burn. I shut it down, close it up, unhook it, and head out the
door at which time, the alarm suddenly stops. I find out later the
alarm was due to some dust kicked up by the last of the hotel's remodelling,
and while it's nice to know it wasn't our fault, it's still thrown me
off-balance.

Fine, then. Forget Read or Die for now this group's here to be
amused, anyway. I start them off with a bunch of fluffy music videos;
Doki-Doki Productions' stuff and the like. The last of theirs is set to
Weird Al's 'Harvey the Wonder Hamster,' and it's really gooney. Enough so
that everyone wants to see the original anime from whence this footage
came Ebichu the Housekeeping Hamster.

I think it's about time to break out the drinks. The plastic container
into which we poured the Goldschlager is a bit awkward, but it's
serviceable, and I'm proud to say I didn't spill a drop of it all night
(you'll understand why I'm proud of that later — if you
haven't figured it out already). I think there's a way to layer
the Irish Cream atop it or vice versa, but I don't succeed at this — so
never mind. I swirl the mixture around in each of the cups, and pass 'em
around to those who can take it (Victoria, f'r instance is underage, so she
refuses. Good girl. Thankfully, she's not alone in this).

Let me just say that Ebichu is really really wrong on so many levels. If
it's not the blood from the hamster constantly being smacked around, it's
the dude who falls in love with her in one episode, or maybe the fact that
Gainax (yes, it's by them) makes up for the fact that this animation style
doesn't 'bounce' by having a lot of dirty talk — it's amazing
what they tried to put past the censors. One guy winds up asking for a
refill at everything truly offensive — he winds up having seven or
eight shots in the course of six ten- to fifteen-minute episodes (of course,
he wasn't powering 'em down so as to keep up with the raunch — that's
just all the time he had).

I make the mistake of trying to keep up with him, even to the point of
chugging one down a la Misato which leaves me breathing fire for a few
moments. I reach my limit at four, before the guy admits to being something
of a professional drinker. This, I'm not used to, and while I burn him a
copy of the series after it's over, it starts to hit me and I utter
the blonde mating call: "Oh man, I'm so drunk!" He corrects me:
"You probably should use the brunette mating call —" well,
all right; I am a brunette, after all — "I SAID, 'I'm so
drunk'!"

Gee, now that was below the belt.

I confess to being living proof of the Mihoshi's slogan (it's blonde,
it's tan, it'll make you stupid), but it doesn't happen very often, and it's
a really weird experience for its rarity. Konatsu pleads with me not to
have a hangover for the drive home; I can't promise my kunoichi anything,
but I'll try. Victoria crashes in our hotel room tonight, hoping to wake up
at 4:30 for a show she wants to see

SUNDAY AUGUST 26

But unless she just stayed up and headed out before going to
sleep, she missed it, because when I get up and shower at 8:30, she's still
out cold. So is Konatsu, for that matter. And while I probably wouldn't
recognize a hangover if it bit me on the leg, I admit to having a rather
pronounced headache. Not the kind where you can't bear light or sound, just
about at 'not-tonight-dear' level.

Well, maybe not quite that.

I slink over to the consuite for a couple of donuts, and later take
another spin around the dealers' room. And as usual, I find myself buying
stuff so I suppose that I can write off the hotel's Sunday brunch;
I've spent way too much already.

We barely get our stuff out before noon, not because we don't have it all
together (although it isn't particularly self-contained; besides the
suitcase and cooler, there's about a dozen little bags of stuff), but
because its sheer awkwardness requires a luggage cart; and they're in short
supply. We do manage to get it out, though, and doubly good for us; not
only do we want to check out before noon, we also want to see a new program
that's been initiated this year

Anime Improv. The way it had been described during the opening
ceremonies (or was it at the game show?) made it sound like my trademark
"Whose Line Is It Anime," and there is a slight feel of that in
the different games played by the contestants picked from the audience. But
the real feel is more like a Second City workshop with a thorough anime
feel. The guy directing (if you can call it that) the show says that it
doesn't matter: "It's just what we need at the tail end of a long
convention — cheap laughs," which garners some of its own.

The Second City is especially evident in the first game: Freeze Tag. Two
characters are given a scene, and at certain times, folks from the audience
yell 'Freeze!' and replace someone. Sometimes, even their character. So,
things mutate from Chibi-Usa and the Space Pirate Ryoko outside of a locked
restaurant, to Kintaro begging as Asuka's (and later, Shampoo's) feet for a
glimpse of panty, to a fellow portraying Washuu-chan's sycophantic puppets
(befuddling his on-stage partners, and charming the crowd in the process),
to a 'battle of the insane laughs' between Vegita and Jinnai, and wraps up
with a guy playing Haruko bashing his partner with the chain-saw guitar (and
the hapless partner, clearly not familiar with Furikuri, gamely trying to
fend him off as if in a swordfight), and rolling around in Haruko's panicky
"ohmigosh-Ikilledhim-Ikilledhim-Ikilledhim." The leader calls a
halt to this just before 'Haruko' would have to give the other guy
mouth-to-mouth, and I'm sure we're all grateful for that.

The next game is about performing an ordinary everyday activity in the
style of a given anime series, and I give it a shot. Now, will someone tell
me what kind of normal everyday activity dragonslaying is? At least
I get in a good line: when my partner talks about all the good meat on those
bones, I demur, saying that "I think it'd be a bit too spicy for my
tastes " And neither Ruroni Kenshin nor Sailor Moon can bail us
out: the hide's tough enough to break a sword, and as for Moon Tiara action,
well, dragons aren't from the Negaverse, after all. Normally, we were
supposed to go through three series, but I decide the dragon has probably
noticed us by now, and allow myself to get roasted.

A trio gets handed the everyday activity (? I sure hope not) of shooting
everyone up; at least in Tylor mode, they forget the ammunition. In Slayers
mode, they find it (although what kind of shooting goes on in Slayers?), but
set it aside to eat. Even the leader points out that they're supposed to be
shooting, to which they reply, "Yeah, but who wants to do that when
there's food to be had?" and go right back to fighting over the
imaginary meal while the audience roars.

The final game is most like 'Whose Line'; in fact it is 'Whose
Line', where the players choose two lines at random from the fishbowl to use
whenever they get stuck in a situation. The biggest laughs go to a pair
supposedly discussing their children at a PTA meeting: but Bulbasaur and
Card Captor Sakura? It's hard for Bulbasaur to actually say his
lines, but "baka-baka-baka-baka" isn't all that far out of
character (and when Sakura uses a card on him at one point, he changes to
"Ivysaur"). Sakura's last line drawn from the bowl?
"Pika-chu." They couldn't've planned that one
better.

At this point, things become rather anticlimactic. Should we stay and
say good-bye to the friends (old and new) we've met this weekend? Can we
even find them? And of course, there's the cooler in the car — it's
plugged into the cigarette lighter, and I don't really want to drain the
battery or anything. But Konatsu wants to give the place one last turn,
just to make sure.

In the dealers' room, we toss in a few bucks for a raffle of original
artwork by Bob and Steve. It's for a good cause, but I wish I'd'a known
sooner it was a 'must be present to win' type of deal. Oh well.

In the consuite, a fellow is holding forth about his year in Japan as an
English teacher; it appears that any gaijin off the street can make good
money doing this job, virtually no experience necessary (well, okay, you
need a bachelor's degree, but it doesn't matter in what). But you
have to be under 35, for whatever reason, maybe so you still have enough
energy to keep up with the kids. Damn, but I'm running out of time!

And so we are. Time to go, pick up Dan-chan at the folks', and get a
decent night's sleep for a change. Until next time, y'all